


Color the Streets Like Our Own

by MusicPlayer81



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-09 03:40:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20483849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MusicPlayer81/pseuds/MusicPlayer81
Summary: Republic City has been slowly crumbling, but it takes a bomb thrown into Asami's mansion to show just how bad things are becoming. Jargala Omo, notorious triad dragonhead, volunteers her help in finding the perpetrators.Rated T for language and mention of blood!





	Color the Streets Like Our Own

**Author's Note:**

> Jargala is a character from the Turf War comics--I found her to be a fascinating character, so I decided to write a story with her!
> 
> I have also included some of my OCs--Mohinder, Jargala's security, Deepika, a child she looks after, Kanta and Aruna, two of her specialists, Niraj Omo, and Chen Beifong. Niraj is her cousin, and currently seeing Chen Beifong--daughter of Lin Beifong and Tenzin, and adoptive sister to Mako and Bolin. If you'd like to learn more about her, please read my works "Reveals," "Returnings," and "Guess I'm Going with You!"
> 
> Title credit to the wonderful @braigwen!

The night had started off well enough. 

She had been throwing a party for all of her associates as a way to thank them for their hard work…maintaining order. Jargala loved these times, because it was one of the few occasions that everyone was in the hideout. The lockpicks were mixing surprisingly good cocktails, the fences were regaling the newbies with stories of how they infiltrated every business that had ever existed.

It was cute that they thought that. They hadn’t even gotten close.

She, on the other hand, was challenging her security to a game of pool. Her strongman, Mohinder, was actually giving her a run for her money. It was just after she sent three balls skidding into their holes (and dashed Mohinder’s hopes) that she felt two small hands clutch tightly on the skirt of her lehenga.

“Hey boss, looks like someone wants to join in on the fun!” Mohinder teased.

“Not until they finish their schooling,” Jargala said, gently tilting the child’s head up. It was Deepika, sweet Deepika. That little girl was both her shadow and her lookalike, down to the long black hair, bright green eyes, and—oh Raava, someone slashed her cheek. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Deepika?” She asked, trying to keep her voice level. “Deepika, honey, what happened?”

The little girl’s eyes welled up, and her chin started trembling. “Auntie,” she whispered, reaching up for a hug. “Auntie, auntie, auntie…”

As Jargala knelt down to hug the little girl, she noticed that all her business partners had ceased their revelry. Good. _No child will ever suffer on their watch_ was the first commandment she made them learn.

“Bulbul,” she asked, gently tucking a piece of hair behind the girl’s cheek. _Li__ttle nightingale_, it meant, a term of endearment she had given after hearing the little one finally sing. Her hand pulled away with a shard of glass, stained with the tiniest bit of blood. “Bulbul, who hurt you?”

The little girl’s voice was barely above a whisper. “A bad man.”

Not great, but getting somewhere. “Where was this bad man, bulbul?”

“Auntie Korra’s house.”

No.  _ No _ . 

She turned to her associates. Their bodies were tensed, already preparing themselves for what was to come. “Mohinder, with me. You all, get your things. We move on the Sato Mansion  _ now _ .” 

* * *

Deepika’s eyes were wide with horror. Luckily, it wasn’t because of the ominous plume of smoke in the distance.

“Auntie? Auntie, your lehenga, it’s all muddy! Auntie, auntie—“

Jargala shifted the girl to a different hip and pressed a calming kiss to her cheek. “Auntie’s an earth bender, remember? She can bend mud from everything, even handmade lehengas.” She could see why the little one was so horrified by her auntie traipsing her lehenga through mud—the seamstresses had really outdone themselves this time. Using emerald silk for the skirt, the women had painstakingly sown light green crystal beads by hand to create the illusion of jennamite creeping up her skirt. The choli top, cut to show her midriff, was covered in the same crystals. They had even embroidered a dupatta to pull the ensemble together, which now functioned as a blanket to warm Deepika from the pouring rain. Perhaps, when she went in next month for her saree fitting, she could commission a smaller matching one for Deepika. She had hated wearing matching outfits with her mother when she was a child, but now she understood why it happened. There’s just something so precious about a small child in a matching saree—though to be fair, she could just as well dress up her son in matching kurtas. Actually, not a half-bad idea, getting them all matching kurtas…

But that would be something to muse upon later. Not now when the wind is howling, the rain soaking, and the Sato Mansion smoking. One of the front rooms had been blasted open, the damage a gaping maw to the still smoldering insides. Glass covered everything, and Jargala cursed her impulsiveness under her breath. Sandals weren’t the best protective footwear.

“Jargala? Jargala, hi—is that a child?”

She and Mohinder turned to find Bolin, his hands and clothes cut up, soot smudging his still-boyish cheeks. He nodded his head at her strongman, and ash fell out of his hair. Deepika peeked her head out of the dupatta before retreating into it again. Jargala nodded, tightening her hold on the girl. “This is Deepika. I take care of her, but she plays with the children at the mansion after school and on the weekends sometimes. She came running into the hideout with glass in her hair and her cheek cut up, said something about a bad man here hurting her—do you know anything about this?”

Bolin paused for a moment, his eyes focused on the bundle in Jargala’s arms. Jargala nodded and placed the girl into Mohinder’s arms. Poor thing was starting to shiver—they’d been outside for far too long. “Take her somewhere warm, if you can. Thanks, Mohinder.”

After they watched Mohinder lumber towards a campfire of some sort, Bolin turned towards Jargala. “Look, I have to ask this, and you have to tell me the truth, because if the truth’s that kind of truth then I can maybe smooth things over with Mako before he—“

Jargala’s eyes widened, and she held up her hand to stop Bolin from speaking further. “Wait, do you think I had something to do with all of this?” She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “Believe it or not, Bolin, I actually like you guys, even your grouchy-pants aunt-in-law. And even if I didn’t, I sure as fuck would not be carrying out work in this lehenga. Do you know how much this cost to have made? A lot. I’m not about to destroy a lehenga in—in whatever manner the Sato Mansion got destroyed in. Seriously, Bo, what the fuck happened? Is Asami okay?”

Bolin took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, shaking out more ash as he did so. “Asami’s fine. She’s not here actually, she’s on a business trip in the western Earth Kingdom—which is why we all descended unto the mansion, so we could Korra company, because she always misses Asami when she leaves on a business trip. Anyways, the adults were all getting dessert ready in the kitchen when we heard a crash, and then a boom, and then more, and then—“

In the near distance a sharp wail could be heard, along with struggling. Jargala ran over, heedless of the glass stinging her feet, to find the new Chief Beifong hugging Chen tightly, who was desperately trying to fight against her oldest brother’s grip.

“Mako, let me go!”

“Chen, it’s not safe!” He grunted, trying not to get scratched by her nails. “You should be, I don’t know, getting healed by Korra, considering how much smoke you inhaled? Don’t—hey, don’t fight me, Chen! Chen, it’s dangerous in there, the Fire isn’t contained! Chen—“

Jargala cautiously stepped towards them. “Is everything okay here?”

Mako spun towards Jargala, still hugging Chen. “This better not be your handiwork, Jargala Omo. Niraj better not be missing because of you.”

She bunched up her skirt and showed it to him. “Does it look like I’ve been conducting business? This lehenga is worth half your salary—“ She paused, his words finally hitting. “What do you mean, Niraj is missing?”

“We can’t find him anywhere,” Chen said, panic in her voice. “All the kids are accounted for, and almost all of the adults, but Niraj—Niraj—“

“He hasn’t been seen since before the explosion?” Jargala, the wheels in her mind turning, asked. Chen nodded. Jargala focused on Mako. “Have your men completed a sweep of the mansion?”

“They’re still in the process of putting out the fires inside, but so far no one’s seen anything.”

“Hey, boss! Boss, over here!”

Jargala turned around to find two of her specialists, Kanta and Aruna, being manhandled by two of Mako’s officers. Kanta and Aruna were an interesting duo. They were talkative, but only about small-talk topics and their areas of specialty: weaponized water- and fire bending, respectively. But other than that she knew nothing about them. Not their background, not their relationship to each other (she suspected they were dating each other, but she wasn’t sure), not even their gender. Not that that’s any of her business, anyways. They’re two of the finest water- and fire benders she’s ever met. She stared the chief down until he sighed and looked up. “They’re not suspects, uncuff them!”

The officers groaned and let the two go free, the duo running towards their boss and only stopping once behind her. With a smile, she gestured towards them. “Mako, allow me to introduce my specialists, Kanta and Aruna. Kanta and Aruna, meet the Republic City Chief of Police, Chief Mako Beifong.” In a flash, she dropped the smile. “Now that we have the niceties done with, let me and my specialists go in and find Niraj. They’re the best waterbender and firebender I’ve ever had in my employ. Together we can help not only find my cousin but also clean up the mansion.”

“Wha—Jargala, absolutely not, not until the force has scoped the place out—“

“Yes.”

Mako and Jargala looked down to find Chen had stopped struggling, her green eyes staring both of them down. “Use your people to help find Niraj.”

“Chen, you can’t be serious!” Mako sputtered, letting go of his sister. 

“I can’t be serious? You can’t be serious! Mako, we’re wasting time, and that’s time Niraj might not have!” She looked to Jargala, eyes wide, lower lip slightly trembling. “Please.”

Jargala didn’t need to be told twice. Without turning behind her, she issued orders. “Execute triangle formation. Aruna, you’re lead, and Kanta, team point with me. Move!”

Mako’s eyes widened, and he and Chen stepped out of the way as Jargala and her team stepped into the mansion. As terrible as it was on the outside, it was...well, she wasn’t sure what it was like compared to the inside. Smoke was everywhere. Aruna was trying their best to clear it away, but it felt as if they were walking in a starless night. She couldn’t even see past her knees. She and her associates took filtration masks that were offered to them by a junior cadet and started scoping out the mansion.

“Hey boss,” Aruna said, their long black hair falling in time with their movements. “What’s the likelihood that we can get a couple airbenders in the group? Firebending’s good for some things, but smoke isn’t always one of them.”

“Depends on how closely their morals align with ours,” Jargala said, almost tripping up the main staircase. How the fuck had she missed that? Perhaps the next order of business should be finding new airbenders not associated with the nomads. “Kanta, what’s the situation? What are you sensing?”

“It’s not looking good, Boss,” the water bender said, their long brown hair braided down their back. They clutched at the air, only to grab nothing. They frowned. “Some high-temperature explosives were detonated here. It’s vaporized the water in the air.”Jargala frowned. “Completely?”

“Looks like it,” Kanta noted. Upon seeing Jargala’s pensive face, they continued. “It’s a natural occurrence whenever there’s high heat in an area. It’s why the air is drier around powerful fire benders when they bend.”

“But that’s a small radius—maybe two people at best,” Aruna said, trying to clear them a path up the stairs. The smoke, Jargala noticed, was getting thicker and blacker. The masks they were wearing were manufactured, ironically enough, by Asami’s company, so she trusted their quality. Even then, however, even then there were limits. “It’d take a lot of explosives to create something like this.” Aruna stopped at the top of the staircase to inspect a skid mark on the banister, grazing their hand over it and examining the flakes that came off. “Hmmm, there’s not many bombs that leave flaky residue. The ones that do are extremely expensive, even for us.”

Jargala raised an eyebrow. She hated the use of explosives—it was the coward’s way of gaining dominance—but she always kept some for training exercises for her associates, in case they were ever in a situation and needed to shift the bomb to their advantage. “How expensive?”

Aruna looked up, doing mental math in their head before focusing on their boss. “One case of the Cao-Los would cost us a third of our income from fixings, and they’re the least expensive of the kind.”

Jargala’s eyes narrowed. Other than the Creeping Crystals, only the Triple Threats would have this kind of money readily available. But they liked using their lightning bending to create explosions instead of bombs doing the work for them. And besides, it would be suicide for them to try and retake the Sato Mansion. Unless…

Unless someone wanted people to think it was the Triple Threats. Because if people thought it was the Triple Threats, then they would think the explosions were for Asami…when they were really for Korra all along. 

_ Shit _ . She’ll need to tell Mohinder to clear up a few safe houses for Korra and the kids. Mako can do whatever he likes, but he of all people knows the brutality of triads. Something tells her he won’t be getting in the way.

“Hey, Boss.” Kanta jerked their head to the left. “The smoke looks like it’s getting stronger that way. Should we go investigate?”

Aruna wordlessly resumed diverting the smoke until a cadet grabbed them. “Chief Beifong said you were a fire bender. The fire is getting out of control, come with me now!” Aruna nodded and bowed to Jargala before running off. Kanta looked at their boss questioningly.

“Go,” Jargala said, gesturing towards Aruna. “They’ll probably need a waterbender too.”

Kanta bowed and ran off, following closely behind Aruna. Now that she was on her own, she could do a little exploring—purely to satisfy her own curiosity, of course. Though she preferred her Omashu-style digs, the Sato Mansion was exceptionally beautiful, even under all the smoke. Using her hand to guide herself, her fingers glided amongst maple panels until she felt a tingling. 

Stone. Shale, to be exact, with a mix of granite and sandstone. There was a hidden compartment here.

Jargala sighed and steadied her hand. “Sorry, Asami,” she muttered. With a swipe of her hand, she broke open the wall and stepped inside the room. By the looks of it, it was a storage closet off the side of old Hitoshi Sato’s office. The air was clear, so she immediately resealed the room before smoke could get in and took off her mask, surveying the room as she did so. There were rows of metal filing cabinets, no doubt containing his old prototype designs. The place was dark, and her eyes couldn’t adjust like they used to, so she felt along the walls for a switch. She found it near her, and flicked on the old lightbulb. 

And that’s when she saw him. 

He rested against a filing cabinet, his chest moving fitfully. His hair shone with bits of glass, and he had what was shaping up to be busted eye socket the way his black eye was swelling up. She looked down and stifled a gasp. He was covered in blood—his own blood. Raava help him, there was so much blood. Niraj slowly craned his head up, jutting his chin out stubbornly. 

“If there were ever a time to kill me,” Niraj wheezed, his breaths shallow, “now would be the time to do it, dayada.”

_ Dayada _ . Kinsmen was one translation of it. Heiress was the more accurate one. Even near death, Niraj observed the old customs, spoke the old language. Even near death, his first thought upon seeing family was that they were there to kill him. 

What had their family done?

Jargala held her hands up to show that she came in peace. “I’m not here to hurt you, Niraj,” she said slowly, carefully advancing towards him, still keeping her hands up. “I don’t want to hurt you, udakadhara. I don’t want to hurt you.”

_ Udakadhara _ . Kinsmen, water-holder. Niraj held her gaze for a moment before slumping down. Jargala ran towards him and cradled him close to her with one hand, sending out her emergency code using earthbending with another. Hopefully Kanta or Mohinder were close enough to feel it. He was so young, why was he so young? “Hey hey hey, it’s not your bedtime yet,” she half-heartedly teased, brushing glass out of his hair. “Wake up, sleepyhead, you’ve still got a lot of time ahead of you.”

“Why,” he breathed out laboriously, “Why aren’t you killing me? Don’t you hate me?”

Jargala had to bite down her tongue to keep from crying outright. How could he even think that? 

Well, he did have a lifetime of examples courtesy of their family. No one grew up in the Omo family, they survived it. “I could ask the same of you,” she teased, throat tight, tears pricking her eyes. Niraj surveyed her, his eyes searching for what he imagined was the true truth. After a minute, he fully relaxed, resting his head on her chest. 

She discreetly wiped a tear away and held him close. Mohinder broke into the closet seconds later. Kanta raced ahead, using coconut water to stabilize Niraj as Mohinder called out for help from the others. She vaguely processed the questions Mako asked, the preternatural screams from Chen’s body, Lin’s frantic attempts to calm her daughter as Korra tag-teamed healing her cousin. She could only think of one thing.

_ Why aren’t you killing me? Don’t you hate me? _

  
  



End file.
